


On Point

by whitchry9



Series: Avocados and Avengers [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Friendship, Gen, Secret Identity, bros being bros, colourblindness, probably inaccurate archery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchry9/pseuds/whitchry9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt should have known that his encounter with the Avengers wasn't the end of it. So when Hawkeye calls him, it only proves his suspicions correct.</p><p>(And Foggy is so very jealous.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is a series now. And apparently there are going to be multiple more fics, because it turned into more than 6k of Clint and Matt being bros and not much actual plot happening. So plot will happen in later fics. What sort of plot? No idea.

Matt was very glad Karen wasn't around when his phone announced who was calling.

_Hawkeye. Hawkeye. Hawkeye._

He froze momentarily before grabbing for it, but not before Foggy managed to hear it from his office and pretty much ran over to Matt's.

Matt ended the call, but the damage was done.

“Who was that?” he demanded.

“Wrong number,” he muttered.

“Oh, no, Matthew Murdock, you are not getting out of this. Tell me, and don't you dare lie, if that was indeed Hawkeye the _Avenger_ calling you.”

“Well, it certainly wasn't Hawkeye from MASH calling me,” he replied.

Foggy gaped at him. “How the hell did he get your number?”

“I honestly don't know,” Matt admitted. Clint wasn't the one who'd figured out his identity, and Natasha had promised him that his secret was safe. He didn't think she was the type to let things slip.

“Well maybe you can ask him that when you answer it,” Foggy told him, just before the phone began to ring again.

_Hawkeye. Hawkeye. Hawkeye._

Matt answered it this time, only if to stop it from saying that in case Karen came back.

“How did you get this number?” he hissed.

On the other end of the line, Barton sounded bemused. “Um, hi? This is Daredevil right?”

“Yes, but I'm going to say it again. How did you get this number?”

“When you were here, Tony did some... phone scanny thing, kinda creepy if I'm gonna be honest, and input all our numbers and contact info into your phone. In case you ever needed us. And then sort of put your number in our phones under Daredevil. So this is me, calling you.”

“And here I was thinking it was generous of Rogers to give me a card,” Matt replied.

Barton sighed. “Yeah, Tony sometimes goes overboard.”

“Sometimes?”

On the other end of the line, Barton shrugged. Even if he wasn't blind, Matt wasn't sure that movement would convey over the phone.

Foggy was still standing there, gaping at him, but Matt ignored him, continuing on with the call.

“You know it wasn't actually clever to put your code names as your contact info?” he pointed out. “Considering this is my personal phone?”

Barton paused. “I'll be sure to mention that to Tony. Or you know what, you could yell at him yourself if you came over.” His voice was hopeful.

Matt rubbed his forehead. “Came over? And did what exactly?”

Barton shrugged again. “Hang out? Show me some of your parkour moves? I wasn't kidding about wanting to teach you to shoot.” He lowered his voice. “To be honest, it would be nice to hang out with some not as super heroes, you know? Pretty much everyone around here has superpowers or something, or is Nat, and it would be good to train with someone not so likely to hurt me.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I think I'll be unable to hurt you?”

“No,” Barton said quickly. “You're just less likely to kill me accidentally.”

Matt laughed. “I suppose so.”

“So what do you say? I realize you probably have a real job, so how about this weekend? Saturday? Sunday? I'm free either way unless some Avenging stuff comes up.”

“Not Sunday,” Matt told him, thinking of church and Father Lantom and confession that isn't over a latte.

“Alright that's fine, so how about Saturday? You just come by the tower whenever. And dude, you don't have to wear your full costume. Like, maybe the old one? Less conspicuous, and I'm not going to try to kill you, so you don't need the full protection. Hell, just wear sweats and a ski mask if you want, I don't care. Sound good?”

“I guess,” Matt replied dubiously.

“Great!” Clint chirped. “See you then!”

He hung up, and Matt was left with a dial tone in his ear and his best friend in his face.

He put the phone down, regretting it immediately, as it was the only reason Foggy hadn't pounced yet.

“What the hell man? Was that _Hawkeye_ Hawkeye? Does he know?” he whispered. “Are you guys like, hanging out? Are you fighting crime together? Dude, are you in the Avengers now?”

Matt was saved from the barrage of questions by Karen returning from lunch.

He had never been so glad for her presence before.

“Don't think you're getting out of this conversation,” Foggy hissed at him, before going to help Karen with her leftovers.

Matt sank back in his chair. Saturday. That only gave him a few days to get himself ready for this.

Give him thugs to beat up any day, but sparring with a person that could be a friend? Matt needed to psych himself up for that one.

And figure out what to wear.

 

* * *

 

That night he stood over the box in his closet that help his gear, pondering what to wear. Barton had encouraged him to wear his old costume, but Natasha's observation him being unable to see through was stuck in his head.

Three floors below, Foggy's heartbeat was making his way to Matt, and there was no way to get out of it this time.

Matt sighed. He'd been able to avoid Foggy during the work day by sticking close to Karen, offering to walk her out, and then leaving before Foggy could figure out what was going on. But Foggy knew he was home, and even if he wasn't, would just let himself in through the roof door and wait for Matt to get back.

Better to do it the easy way. Plus, he might be able to offer insight into his mask.

Not that Matt was using him or anything. Just... a little bit maybe.

 

Matt opened the door before Foggy could even knock.

“That's creepy man,” he muttered, passing by Matt into the apartment. “And I need to get you more lights. I know it's fine for you, but us sighted people find your apartment cave-like.” He paused. “How did you know I was there?”

“Heard you coming,” Matt replied, heading to the fridge and getting two beers. He offered one to Foggy, who accepted. It would probably be best for this conversation if they were both slightly intoxicated.

He threw himself on the couch, and Foggy sat in his armchair.

“So,” he began. “Hawkeye. The Avengers. And you made like, a date with him or something?”

Matt chuckled. “Not quite. He wants to hang out and practice fighting together or something. Most of his team members are superhuman, and he thinks I'll be on more of a level playing field.”

“Okay,” Foggy said slowly. “But how did you meet him? I assume you didn't advertise online for superhero friends or whatever.”

“This is the part you're going to get angry about,” Matt admitted. “Remember last week, when I hurt my knee?”

“Yeah...”

“I might have hurt it helping out the Avengers. Don't ask, I'm still foggy on the details of how it happened, sort of got a concussion, but it ended with me in the Avengers Tower, getting medical treatment from the Hulk himself.”

“As the Hulk?”

“Oh no. As Doctor Banner. Human.”

“Right. Okay. Continue.”

“So they patched me up, it was nothing serious, I swear, they checked and everything, and then I sort of had to meet all the Avengers because they wanted to make sure I was okay, and to thank me for helping out, and attempt to recruit me multiple times, and also I think if I left before meeting them all the building would have eaten me or something. Tony Stark's AI.” He shrugged. “So that was a thing that happened, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I knew how you'd get.”

Foggy was quiet for a moment.

“So you're telling me,” he began, “That you met Captain America a week ago and didn't tell me?”

Matt knew the pillow was coming, but didn't block it anyway. Instead, he just grabbed one of his own, and started hitting Foggy back.

“Captain America was my childhood hero!” Foggy yelled, punctuating every other word by a whack to Matt with the pillow. “And you met him and didn't tell me!” He laid one final hit on Matt before falling back into his chair, breathless.

Matt set his own pillow down, which had mostly been used as defense rather than offense.

“This is why I didn't tell you,” he said, when Foggy had gotten his breath back and his heart rate was more or less normal.

“Captain America Matty,” Foggy moaned, burying his face in the pillow. He was lucky that Matt could still hear him. “Oh my god what am I doing. You have to let me meet him. No, wait, I can't, I'm a mess. But Captain America! Matt, please, just kill me.”

“Not gonna kill you buddy,” Matt said, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder. “But I also can't take you to meet him because he doesn't know who I am. Yet, anyway. He's a clever guy, I'm sure he'll find out eventually, but for now, I don't want him to be able to trace me through you. Sorry.”

Foggy nodded into his pillow. “I just nodded,” he added, muffled. “I know you can usually tell, but considering I'm trying to smother myself with this pillow, I wasn't sure.”

“Okay buddy,” Matt said, in an attempt to be soothing. “The thing is, I need some help with a few things.”

Foggy straightened up. “Help. I can do that. Probably.”

Matt got his phone out and waved it at Foggy. “As you know, my phone apparently has Hawkeye's number in it, labelled as Hawkeye. I'm told that the rest of the Avengers are in there as well. Can you change the names from their titles to normal names for me? Please? I mean, can you imagine if Karen was there today. It would be very hard to get out of that one.”

“Sure. Give it.”

Matt tossed it to him. “There are probably only six, but check just in case Stark decided to throw some other people in.”

Foggy shook his head. “I still can't believe this,” he muttered.

“Neither can I,” Matt admitted. “Still feels surreal. You know they tried to recruit me a bunch of times?”

“No way!”

Matt nodded. “Not sure if they were serious offers, but still.”

“I mean, probably. It would have been kind of awkward if you'd accepted and then they were like, 'actually, we were kidding'. Okay, Captain America is now Steve, Iron Man is now Tony, Hulk is now Bruce, and Black Widow is now Natasha.” He paused. “What the hell do you want me to change Thor to?”

“Oh crap.” Matt scratched his head. “How about Thom, spelled with an h?”

“Sure. And Thor is now Thom.” He paused. “Sorry, what's Hawkeye's name?”

Matt sighed. “Clint. Barton.”

“Right. Done. Yeah, that's all I see in here. No bonuses.”

“Great. Thank you,” Matt told him, catching the phone tossed back his way. “There's one more thing. Can you try my mask on and let me know if you can see out of it? I realized that if you can't actually see through it, people might start to suspect I'm not using my sight. And that's kind of a huge tell.”

He tossed the fabric to Foggy.

Foggy examined it dubiously. “This one's clean, right? Not covered in blood?”

“That one's clean,” Matt reassured him. “Not even worn before.”

Foggy shrugged, and tugged it onto his head. “Why you went for the ninja look, I'm not sure.”

Matt laughed. “Foggy, I can't see it. I wasn't going for any sort of look.”

“Whatever. Also, I think this is too tight on me. Cause of my hair, you know? Not cause my head is fat or something.”

“Of course not Foggy.”

“And while it is tight, I can see out of it. Probably not as well as I'd like if I was fighting someone, but I can see out of it. You're good.”

“Awesome. Thank you.”

Foggy shrugged. “What are best friends for if not to try on their vigilante friend's costumes and fix contacts of superheroes in their phone?”

“Exactly,” Matt agreed. “So I guess I'm going over there Saturday to hang out with Barton, Hawkeye. He seems to want to teach me to shoot a bow and arrow, and also do some parkouring? Apparently he's seen footage of me, and is interested.”

Foggy paused. “Didn't Hawkeye grow up in a circus? Isn't that why he started archery and whatever?”

“Oh. Right. I wonder if he ever did any sort of trapeze work or something. That would explain his interest.”

Foggy nodded again, sipping at his beer.

“Matty... They don't know you're blind, right?”

“Barton doesn't know,” he said truthfully. “And I hope to keep it that way.”

“But you're going to be shooting at targets,” Foggy pointed out.

Matt shrugged. “I'll make do. I've done okay for this long as a vigilante. I should be able to keep it a secret for one afternoon.”

 

* * *

 

What terrible words those were for him to utter out loud, actually putting them out into the universe where they could be heard and acted upon.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Matt woke up late Saturday because he was out the night before breaking up a drug cartel that were trying to claim the territory left behind by the Chinese. At least he wasn't very injured, only a few cuts and bruises to show for it.

But he woke up late, and even though he hadn't given Barton a time he'd stop by, he couldn't help but feel he was already running behind.

So there was that.

He made himself breakfast and got dressed and debated what to wear and bring and if he should even go. It wasn't that he didn't want to go, because he genuinely did. He liked Barton, but he wasn't sure how long he could maintain the facade.

Matt sighed to himself.

 

He wore normal clothes as he headed to Midtown. It was the middle of the day, and he really didn't have any desire to be caught in his black ninja outfit. He brought it though, and changed in an underground tunnel that led to the parking garages underneath the Avengers Tower.

He had to admit, it was convenient, and had probably been planned that way.

He stashed his cane in his civilian clothes and prayed that no one would come looking for it or find it.

 

His old costume was comforting. His new one was great, yes, but there was something about the simplicity of his first costume that had barely changed over his time as a vigilante that was comforting.

He was glad he decided to wear it.

 

He arrived in the garage underneath the Tower, and wasn't exactly sure what to do. He stood outside the place when he was pretty sure the elevator was, pondering.

 

“Hello Daredevil,” Jarvis greeted. Matt managed not to jump this time.

“Hello Jarvis,” he replied.

“Agent Barton informed me that you would be dropping by today. Would you like me to tell him you are here?” he asked, opening the doors to the elevator, which were indeed where Matt suspected.

“Yes, thank you.” He got in, and the doors closed. “How did you recognize me? I'm wearing a different costume.”

“Body type, physical characteristics, and facial recognition software,” Jarvis replied. “It was a 98.4% probability match.”

Matt nodded. “Okay. Good to know.”

He really hoped that Jarvis never decided that humans were a danger to themselves and tried to take over the world, because he would succeed.

“Agent Barton is quite excited to have company,” Jarvis told him.

Matt grinned. “Really? Well, I hope I live up to his expectations.”

“I am sure you will,” Jarvis replied. The elevator stopped, depositing Matt on the same floor he'd met Barton last time, with padded floors and plenty of room for activity.

“Daredevil!” Clint greeted. He was dangling from the ceiling on some sort of rope, but scurried down once Matt entered. He was wearing excessively baggy shorts and a t-shirt, which was the only reason Matt could sense them. At least it was nice to know Clint wasn't nude and expecting him to say something. Matt wasn't sure he'd ever get over that.

“Barton,” Matt replied, grinning. “Jarvis told me you're excited for our play date.”

“Okay, in order, call me Clint, Jarvis is a tattletale, and it's not a play date. It's a meeting of two slightly less super superheroes in order to train together.”

“Right. Clint. Not a play date. Got it.” Matt gave him a thumbs up.

“And you wore your other costume. Nice. Although I gotta say, if I was fighting you, I would probably just be so tempted to pull on the dangling fabric that I wouldn't get much else done. Has anyone ever done that?” Clint asked, sidling up to Matt and flipping the tails of his bandana over his shoulders.

“No, but I did think of that,” he admitted. “I just sort of hoped it would never happen.”

Clint shrugged. “I tend to deal with problems in that way too.”

“So, you said something about teaching me archery?” Matt said.

Clint practically lit up with excitement. “Oh my god yes. I've been prepared all morning for this. Jarvis helped me set up the range for beginners, and I picked out a bow that you should be able to use, oh shit, wait, you're left handed, aren't you? I knew that, and I totally forgot. Dammit. No, this is okay. We can do this. I'll just get a different bow. No problem. Anyway, it's gonna be awesome. Come on, the range is a floor up.”

He practically dragged Matt to a set of stairs, sprinting up them with excitement. Matt followed suit. The man's energy was contagious.

 

The room that Clint led him to was long, with partitions set up, possibly to allow for multiple ranges side by side. At the end of the room were targets. Probably. Matt assumed they were targets, because they were round. Clint passed by two partitions, leading Matt to an equipment room that was filled with all sorts of weapons, many that he couldn't even differentiate. He recognized the bows though. Clint stood in front of them proudly.

“This is my baby,” he told Matt, holding one up. “Recurve. I like them better. A lot of people think that you have to use a compound bow to get the kind of power you want, but it's just not true. I'm going to start you off with a recurve, cause...” he shrugged. “Yeah. Here, you can try this one if you want, but I'm not sure you'll even be able to pull it back. It's a left handed one. I'm ambidextrous. Here, hold it like this,” Clint instructed, positioning Matt's body in the correct pose. Matt hadn't really seen it before, since there were few archery events in New York, and if it was on television he couldn't discern the position of the archers.

“Fingers here,” Clint continued. “And now try and pull it back.”

Matt did as he said, and pulled, but the string barely budged.

Clint grinned at him. “Yeah, I know right? I've got you something easier to start out with. 40 pounds of draw strength. I figure you can handle that. Here, try this one.”

Matt positioned himself the same way again without Clint's help, and pulled back the string on the bow. There was some resistance, but nothing like the other one.

“Okay, great. Now ease the string back gently. You don't want to release it if there's not an arrow in it, cause it can wreck the bow.”

“Got it,” Matt murmured.

“Now, arrows,” Clint announced. He grabbed buckets that presumably contained them. “You know how to put them on the bow? There's a notch in the end. You're going to want to make sure that it's firmly in, otherwise it'll fuck up your shooting.”

He demonstrated, slotting an arrow onto his bow for Matt to see.

“You see how two of them are the same colour, and one is different? You're going to want the different colour facing out, like this, so that they don't run into the string as you're shooting it.”

Matt smirked, but didn't tell Clint that he couldn't see the colours. He'd be able to position the arrow without them, since there were only two positions it could go in, one that led to the plastic bits on the end running into the string, and one that didn't.

He really didn't know any of the terminology. He hoped he didn't have to ask any questions, because Clint would probably laugh at him.

“Okay, now it's time to go to the range and actually shoot some of them,” Clint told him, all but dragging him along behind him.

He pushed Matt into a spot in front of one target, and positioned himself in front of the other.

“Okay, now you're going to want to figure out your posture,” Clint instructed. “Your body will be facing this way if you're shooting that way.”

He demonstrated, and Matt mirrored his position as best he could.

“Nice. Now get an arrow on there and try to hit the target.”

 

Matt selected an arrow from the bin, made sure it was firmly on the bow, and drew it back. Aiming was all but impossible, since he had no clue where the arrow was going to go, let alone where he should be aiming for on the target. He shrugged internally before releasing the arrow and hoping for the best.

It hit the target with a dull _thunk_ and Matt hoped that was the right sound.

“Hey, not bad,” Clint noted. He sounded surprised, and Matt wasn't sure if he should be offended by that or not.

He couldn't tell where it landed though. His world on fire vision, as he'd poetically told Claire and Foggy, didn't exactly work that far away for things in such detail.

“Really? I can't tell where it landed.”

Clint scoffed. “I don't know how you see anything with that mask on, but whatever. Let's check.”

 

Up close, Matt could tell the arrow was to the right of where the centre was, and slightly below middle.

“Not bad,” Clint repeated, yanking the arrow from the target and handing it back to Matt. “You sure you haven't done this before?”

“Positive.”

“Huh. Might just be a natural then. Let's do some more. Your technique isn't bad, but I'll show you some more tips.”

 

It went on like that for a while, Matt loosing arrows at the target he couldn't see, and Clint offering him tips about posture and the way he held the arrow up to his cheek.

“You've got to find a spot that works for you,” he said. “Consistency is the key. Once you know where it's going to go, you can start to aim it.”

He demonstrated, loosing three arrows in rapid succession that all hit, presumably, the centre of their targets.

“Nice,” Matt said, admiration in his voice. “But you've been practicing how many years? And I just started today.”

“I'll shoot right handed if it would make you feel any better,” Clint said, a slight smile in his voice.

“Ah, no. You said you were ambidextrous. I don't care if you're left hand dominant, it's still unfair.”

Clint sighed. “Yeah, okay. You want to practice a bit more, then I'll show you the jungle gym? Tony designed and built most of it, but I had input, so it's pretty cool.”

“Sure,” Matt agreed, grabbing another arrow and lining up his shot.

He was pretty sure that one was a bullseye.

“Nice!” Clint chirped. “Bullseye!”

Matt grinned. Apparently he was right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archery descriptions are based on my experience, and probably contain some mistakes, but considering Clint learned a long time ago, and probably hasn't taught anyone, is why he's kind of a mess teaching Matt.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint set his bow down for a moment and turned to face Matt, who loosed another arrow that went nowhere near the centre of the target. “Hey, wanna do a contest? We shoot at the same target, and whoever gets the most points wins. Points are determined by the colour rings.”

“I will definitely lose,” Matt pointed out.

“Well, how about if I shoot with my feet?”

Matt gaped. “You can do that?”

Clint shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Time limit of a minute?” Matt suggested.

“Sure,” Clint agreed.

 

Watching Clint get into position to shoot his bow with his feet was perhaps the most entertaining thing Matt had seen in weeks. Humans were just not meant to use toes like fingers, unlike other primates could.

Still, Clint would probably win.

 

He'd dug a timer out of the equipment room, and had set it up on the floor between them. He'd also grabbed more arrows, unsure of how many he'd be able to shoot in a minute.

“Alright, ready?” Clint asked, looking to Matt.

“As I'll ever be,” he admitted.

“Okay then. Three, two, one, go!”

He slapped the timer with his hand to start it and immediately got to work shooting. Matt followed suit, and the minute was filled with only him sensing the target and aiming at it, while also avoiding Clint's arrows that he could barely sense.

Of course, Clint hit one of his arrows out of midair, which he totally claimed was an accident, but Matt was dubious.

The timer announced the end of a minute with a loud screech that made Matt wince.

Clint hopped to his feet. “Well, that wasn't entirely terrible. I think I hit the target most of the time anyway.”

They both set their bows down and headed over to the target at the end of the room.

Some of the arrows hadn't stuck in the target, and were scattered around it.

“Okay, now which colour arrows were yours?” Clint asked, examining the target.

“I... I'm not actually sure,” Matt admitted.

“Dude, are you colour blind?” Clint asked.

“... yeah,” he admitted. It was technically true.

“Me too!” Clint cheered. “High five!”

Matt reciprocated and grinned at him.

Clint scratched his head. “You could have mentioned something when I was telling you how to line up the arrows,” he noted.

“Nah, that was fine,” Matt dismissed.

Clint nodded. “I'll have to get Nat or someone to help me later. But for now let's leave it cause I really want to show you the jungle gym thing. It's awesome.”

 

Clint dragged him up another flight of stairs. He paused before opening the door, presumably for dramatic effect.

“Here it is. My other baby.”

He threw the door open, allowing Matt to get his first glimpse of it.

 

“That is... impressive,” Matt said, taking in the sheer size of it. It was at least three stories of the Tower, and took up at least half of the floor. It ranged from ladders and smooth surfaces to rough material that was probably meant to resembles trees. There were ropes and vines and poles everywhere, and Matt was certain he could live in it without having to touch the ground for weeks.

 

Clint shimmied up a nearby ladder and leaped to grab a hold of a set of monkey bars, scrambling across them and disappearing into a network of tunnels and beams that Matt couldn't visually track him through. He still heard the man's heartbeat though, and took comfort in the fact that if Clint ever tried to play hide and seek with him, Matt would definitely win.

Matt surveyed the best route up for a moment before leaping to a platform not high above the ground. He flipped across a gap to a beam connecting two structures, and vaulted himself up to the perch where Clint was sitting.

He whistled. “Nice Daredevil. We're going to have to go out some time so you can show me how you do that across rooftops.”

“Only if it's in Hell's Kitchen,” he replied. “I don't know the rooftops around here well enough.”

“Fair enough,” Clint nodded. “So, do you like it?”

“It's amazing,” Matt admitted. “Tony Stark did this all just for you?”

“Yep. Tony pretends to be a huge dick, but he's actually like a marshmallow inside. His heart is made of gold. And whatever the arc reactor is.” He shrugged. “Of course, he is also a jerk. He thought it would be funny to paint it every single colour of the rainbow, like you would for something that would be found on a school yard. Nat says it looks horrible. The thing is, it looks fine to me cause I can't see all the colours.” He shrugged. “I'm not entirely colourblind. I forget the technical name, but basically I don't see yellow or green. So it still looks like it matches to me.” He shrugged again. “And I'm guessing you don't have an opinion on it.”

Matt laughed. “No, I really don't.”

Clint sighed. “It would just be nice if Tony painted it all one colour or something. I suppose I could always repaint, but it sounds like a lot of work. And then, other people might want to use it.” He grinned. “I wasn't always colourblind,” he continued. “I know it's hard for a lot of colourblind people to understand what they're missing, because it's just always been that way, but I had normal vision for a while. Head injury. A bunch of them actually. It's how I lost most of my hearing the first time around.”

“First time?” Matt asked.

Clint shrugged. “I lost a substantial amount of it when I was a kid, but had enough to be generally functional. Then a sonic arrow went off near me, and that destroyed most of the rest of it.”

“That sucks,” Matt said sympathetically. He couldn't imagine losing his hearing. Mostly because he'd be essentially non functional without it, but he'd rather be blind than be deaf and regain his sight. He supposed it was the other way around for most people.

“Eh, I'm Hawkeye, not Hawkears, so it's fine.”

Matt laughed. “Can't hear worth shit but your sight's spectacular?” he asked, echoing what he'd told Foggy those years ago, only swapped around.

“Exactly,” Clint exclaimed.

“Agent Barton, Daredevil,” Jarvis said, “I'm sorry to interrupt, but Agent Romanoff is looking for you, Agent Barton. She's in the common kitchen. I told her your location, but she doesn't desire to climb up and find you.”

Clint sighed. “Okay, we'll come down.”

He slid down one of the nearby poles like a fireman, and Matt followed suit. Clint led him to the elevator this time, which Jarvis had waiting for them, and delivered them to the common floor, where Natasha was waiting in the kitchen.

 

“Hey Nat,” Clint greeted. “I've been teaching Daredevil the art of archery, and he's not bad. Not as good as you of course, but not bad.”

Natasha examined both of them, scanning Matt's uniform with an intensity that Matt could feel. “Are you boys having a fun play date then?” she asked.

“S'not a play date,” Clint muttered. “We're professionals.”

“The definition of professionals is getting paid,” she pointed out. “And while that may be the case for you, on occasion, I'm fairly certain that Daredevil's job as a vigilante does not pay well at all.”

“Sadly not,” Matt sighed.

Natasha smirked. “Certainly not the Avenger life, is it?”

“No,” Matt agreed.

“We've got a mission,” Natasha told Clint. “Cap wants to head out in twenty.”

Clint sighed. “I'll grab my gear. Oh, and there are arrows on a target in the range, can you tell them apart for us? We're trying to see who won.”

“You I suspect,” she replied.

“He shot using his feet,” Matt interjected.

“Oh really? I'll be sure to take a look later. Now go get your crap,” she told Clint, shooing him off with her hands.

“Geez, I'm going, okay,” he muttered.

 

Natasha waited until he was out of earshot to speak to Matt.

“Did you tell him?” she asked, one eyebrow probably pointedly raised. Natasha seemed like the kind of person who would do that. But Matt couldn't quite tell.

“He thinks I'm colourblind,” he admitted. “I didn't tell him, he just assumed. And it is technically true,” he pointed out.

“He will figure it out. Eventually,” Natasha told him.

Matt sighed. “Yeah, I know. But until then it's kind of fun seeing how far I can take it.” He grinned widely. “It's rare that I meet people who don't know I'm blind, or don't figure it out in a matter of minutes, and it's a nice change.”

“What is?”

“To not be treated like I'm made of glass.”

“You're anything but, Murdock,” she replied, slapping him on the shoulder. “And if people don't realize that, they're idiots.”

“Clint's coming,” he said as way of response.

Natasha tilted her head and nodded. “You're right. Nice ears on you.”

Matt grinned. “Well, you know what they say about blind people and senses,” he whispered as Clint came into the room.

 

“Alright, got my crap,” he announced. “Including double extra arrows, cause last time I ran out.”

“Well, have fun,” Matt told him. “I should be going, if you're off to save the world or something.”

Clint scoffed. “More like Minnesota, but yeah, I guess the point still stands.”

“Montana,” Natasha corrected.

“Yeah, whatever,” Clint replied. “Sorry you couldn't stay longer.”

“Hey, I knew coming in that you might have to leave at any point. We had long enough. And I know how to shoot a bow now, right?”

“Excellent point,” Clint conceded. “And you'll just have to come by again. When we're not busy saving... whatever it was, Montana.” He scoffed. “Since when does Captain America go to Montana?” he asked Natasha.

“Since Montana is now home to giant squids, that seem very displeased about the lack of water.”

“Ah,” Clint grimaced. “Well this is going to be terrible.”

“And that is my cue to leave,” Matt added, giving them a wave and heading into the waiting elevator that Jarvis already had ready for him.

“If I might say, a very dramatic exit,” Jarvis intoned.

“I try,” Matt grinned. “And hey, not that I'm mad or anything, but you know the elevators don't have Braille right? Technically, I could sue Tony for not abiding by the regulations of the ADA Standards for Accessible Design.”

Jarvis was quiet for a moment. “You are quite correct. I shall inform Mr Stark at once.”

Matt smiled. “Thank you.”

“I'm quite shocked that there was such a large oversight during the building construction, but I assume that Mr Stark was going for style over practicality and accessibility.”

“As one does,” Matt agreed.

The elevators dinged, announcing his arrival in the basement, and he waved a goodbye to Jarvis, despite not knowing if the AI could actually see.

Much like people did with him.

 

He headed back into the access tunnel to find his clothes and cane exactly where he left them, with no evidence of tampering. And he would know.

 

He changed and headed back out into the city as Matt Murdock, attorney at law, and smiled to himself. He had actually enjoyed the time he'd spent with Clint, and had managed to keep his blindness a secret. He knew that it wouldn't be forever, but he was enjoying it while it lasted.

 

Of course, Foggy was probably eager for the Avengers to find out his identity, if only so he could meet Captain America.

Then again, knowing how Foggy got around people he wanted to impress, perhaps Matt should give him more time to prepare.

Matt snickered to himself as he headed across Midtown towards Hell's Kitchen. If Foggy's first meeting with Steve Rogers was anything like his first meeting with Matt, he could only guess at what Foggy would call him. It would surely be something just as amazing as 'a handsome wounded duck'.

He would definitely have to film it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next fic, Clint will find out Matt's identity. And so will most, if not all of the Avengers. This one just got too long and it couldn't all fit.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] On Point - by whitchry9](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150412) by [Kahara_the_Ghostly_Galoomp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahara_the_Ghostly_Galoomp/pseuds/Kahara_the_Ghostly_Galoomp)




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